Cornerstone
by foxtrotter
Summary: Summer 1977. When Sirius Black leaves home and moves in with the Potters, it is only natural that Remus and Peter should join them. When the four embark on an independent camping trip, they do not expect to meet Evans and Snivellus in the Forest of Dean. They also do not expect that summer to be the cornerstone that paves their way to adulthood, as the First Wizarding War begins.
1. Breaking Out

~Foreword~

_Though it pains me to say it, I am not JK Rowling and I did not create the world of Harry Potter. I did, however, create this fanfiction, which is based on the world which she created and I would like to mention a few points in advance, which may raise your criticism:_

_1\. Any spelling or grammatical mistakes are unintentional, and are more likely to be typos than known errors. Please don't waste your time pointing these out to me, because I won't be going back to edit in commas and colons._

_2\. I am aware that during the summer this story is set, summer 1977, that canonically, Sirius would have been seventeen-going-on-eighteen, as opposed to sixteen-going-on-seventeen, but I changed this as I wanted this story to be set the summer before seventh year. It will later become apparent why._

_3\. I ask you please to review this fanfiction honestly. If you really did not enjoy iy, I would like to know, but I would also like to know why. _

_Thank you for taking the time to read even this much of my story. I hope that you enjoy it and see it through to the end._

**_Chapter One: Breaking Out_**

The day had been coming a long time. When it finally did, in July 1976, sixteen-year-old Sirius Black was ready. His stomach rumbled furiously, and he tensed it angrily in the hope of silencing it. The slightest of stirs would be enough to wake Kreacher, who would in turn wake his mother, Walburga. Due to the inconvenient fact that Sirius was still an under-age wizard, he was forced to disassemble his bedroom the muggle way- by hand. He carefully but quickly extracted t-shirts, jeans, school books and uniform from his wardrobe and placed them into his trunk. He took a moment to consider packing his posters of Beverly Johnson and Marisa Berenson in bikinis as well as posters of Harley-Davidsons , but knew it would be too noisy a risk.

Though far from deprived, Sirius' case was almost empty. He packed his school essentials and Muggle clothing, but the majority of his clothes (elabourate dress robes provided by his family) were mercilessly left behind. He tried to close his trunk silently, but the clasps snapped shut. Cursing under his breath, Sirius grabbed his wand and swung the trunk over his shoulder.

Number 12, Grimmauld Place was silent. For a second, Sirius thought he saw a flicker of movement in the darkness, but ignored it and proceeded downstairs, grasping the bannister for security. Once he reached the landing, he was only yards from the door. With a sigh of both relief and contempt, he sauntered forwards when a voice in the shadows froze him.

"Where are you going?" His brother, Regulus, stepped forwards into the moonlight.

"Go to bed," Sirius growled, turning away.

"No." Regulus retorted. "Tell me where you're going."

"Just out for a midnight stroll."

"With your trunk?"  
"It's none of your business, you git." Sirius hissed. "Just go to bed, I'll be up in a minute."

Regulus actually laughed out loud.

"Shut up!"

"I hope you weren't planning on leaving." Said Regulus darkly.

"And why, oh why, would I want to do that?" Sirius asked dryly. The question hung in the air for a moment.

Finally, Regulus spoke. "Mother warned me about this at the start of the summer. She told me that since you started hanging around with blood traitors and mudbloods you started getting ideas into your head. She told me to keep an eye on you in case you decided to act on those ideas."

"Regulus, no-"

"She told me that if I suspected anything I had to tell her at once."

"Regs, you don't understand. I haven't eaten in days, I have stepped outside in weeks, I have no way of contacting my friends- they mightn't even let me back to Hogwarts this year. Regulus, I have no-one."

Regulus flinched at that. "No-one." He said aloud, narrowing his eyes. "It's for your own good." Regulus' eyes no longer met his brother's. They were downcast and his lip trembled slightly. He slowly took a small stone out of his pocket, engraved with a thick 'B'. "It's for your own good." He repeated, and stroked the stone.

"Be brave, Regulus!" Pleaded Sirius. "For once- don't do what Mother or Father tell you, just stand up for yourself! Run away with me, The Leaky Cauldron will take us in until September, you don't have to stay. Don't be a coward all your life!"

Regulus' face tightened with strain. "I have to." He whispered.

Sirius realised his brother was not going to relent. "If you do this, I'll never forgive you." Said Sirius hollowly. "Never. Not in a month, or a year, or when we're old and grey. If you call Mother now, we won't be brothers anymore. Do you understand?"

"It's for your own good." Regulus said once more, and he pressed his thumb on the 'B'. Instantly, a strong wind swept through the house, the chandelier above them began to quiver.

Desperately, Sirius grasped the door handle, but it was locked. The brass panther began to growl and gnaw his knuckles. There was an abrupt flurry of air, and a hand fell on his shoulder. He turned, and Walburga Black stood before him.

"What-exactly-do-you-think-you-are-doing?" Each word was said with frightening calmness. Her voice did not shake, but each syllable was like a stab in the chest.

"Nothing, Mother." Sirius said carefully, not moving a muscle. He did not fear teachers, or ministry or the creatures in the Forbidden Forest- but Sirius Black always trembled in the presence of his mother. It was not her strictness or her fondness for corporal punishment, but a madness in her that Sirius could also see in his cousin, Bellatrix.

"Regulus?" She asked sharply, turning to her younger son. "You summoned me. What is the _heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black _doing now?"

Regulus hung his head in shame, and mumbled.

"Speak up, boy!" Walburga shrieked.

"He was trying to run away." Said Regulus to the floor.

"Ah…" Sighed Walburga with a series of nods. "I see, now, I see…" She approached her younger son, and embraced him. "You are a very good son, Regulus. A son worthy of your name." She spun around. "And _you_\- have you forgotten the name you bear? The blood that keeps you living is as pure as gold, and yet you let it go to waste as if you were nothing more than a common muggle." She shook her head, her face inches away from her son's.

Sirius tried to back away, but was met by the shut door, and the panther snapping at his neck. "You- DARE?" His mother roared, and the windows of the room all smashed, every broken shard of glass hovered in the air, pointing at him.

"Mother!" Piped up Regulus, who Sirius had forgotten was still hovering there. "Please, don't…"

"Don't what?" She hissed, still facing her older son. "I brought you into this world, you filthy blood-traitor, and I can take you back out of it. I will not let you disgrace this family any more than you already have." She flicked her wand, and several of the shards of glass shot at Sirius, cutting into his arms, legs, and sides.

"Mother, no!" Regulus cried in horror, running to shield his older brother, who shoved him aside.

"How dare you?" Walburga screamed. "Go back to your bedroom at once, or else I will forget our agreement."

Regulus gave his brother a conflicted glance. "I'm sorry." He said quietly, before nodding submissively to his mother and began to trudge up the stairs, until three words stopped him in his tracks.

"You- did- this," Sirius wheezed, his eyes filled with pure venom.

Regulus could not turn around. He ran up the stairs, tears streaming down his face.

"Now you listen to me." Walburga snarled, rounding on Sirius once more. She grabbed him by the throat and pulled him to his feet. "You are the heir to Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You will not disgrace us anymore, do you understand?"

He coughed up a small amount of blood in response, and she slapped his face angrily. "What do you have to say for yourself?" She demanded, holding her wand to his blackened face.

Sirius gasped for breath. "I wish to say…" He swallowed, and a smirk appeared on his lips. "…Get off me, you crazy bitch."

Her face was so contorted with fury that her hands dropped, and Sirius seized the opportunity. He shoved her to the floor and turned to the door. He grasped his wand and pointed it, but Walburga stopped him.

"Use that and you're expelled," her shrill voice crooned, as she reached for her own wand.

Sirius knew she was right. If he told the Ministry why he used it, his wealthy and respected parents would no doubt smooth the case over with a few thousand galleons and he would be both stuck and expelled.

In a swift movement he kicked hers aside and ran past her, up the stairs. Walburga scrambled to her feet and snatched her wand, firing jinxes after him. "Impedimenta!" She screeched. "Venta! Flipendo!"

Sirius managed to dodge the fire of spells as he clambered up the stairs, using his trunk as a shield. When he reached the top, he found his mother was already there, having apparated. Her smile was both sickening and terrifying, and he began to back towards the window.

"Filthy blood-traitor," She spat, her dark eyes mad with ferocity. "You're no son of mine. If you won't come, I'll have to make you… Imper-"

In blind panic, Sirius turned and jumped through the window. For the second time that night, thousands of shards of glass seemed to rip his body to pieces, and he could just feel himself falling freely from the high window. He was in too much pain to yell, he shut his eyes at least knowing he would die outside the walls of that house.

But death did not come. Not even pain came. Sirius opened his eyes and found he was hovering about two feet from the ground, as if on a mattress. After a moment, the spell broke and he landed on the ground. He looked around wildly for his saviour, but a shot of blue in the air reminded him why he had jumped out of the window in the first place. His trunk was still upstairs, all he had was his wand- which was useless to him now. He ran behind the house next door- Number 13. There lived a reclusive old warlock called Renswald Ranmacher who Sirius personally assumed was dead. Ranmacher had a garden shed where he grew asphodel. That was where Sirius kept his bike. A 1959 Triumph 650 T 120 Bonneville which he bought in Hogsmeade from a Lithuanian vampire and bewitched in the Shrieking Shack during mid-term (so he technically hadn't broken any laws by enchanting it) and Wormtail had conveniently left it in Islington when he was in London over Christmas.

He mounted the bike and stabbed the key into the ignition, turning it out on to the footpath. The motorbike did not respond. His entire body was covered in blood, and every movement was agony. But he had no choice. He kept turning the key to no avail, and he realised that he may have ran out of luck.

"Get out of here, lad." Said a voice behind him, and he turned and saw Renswald Ranmacher flick his wand from beneath his robes, and the bike came to life.

"You- it was you who stopped me from fall-"

"Don't make a habit of it," Ranmacher growled. "If your mother wasn't so bloody loud I wouldn't have bothered spiting her. Now get on."

Without argument, Sirius mounted the bike and revved the engine. His mother appeared on the street, running after him, curses and jinxes sailing past in the forms of vivid bolts. He sped down the road and made a sharp U-turn, heading straight towards her. She screamed wildly, waving her hands, in the midst of casting another spell when a short of light shot from Ranmacher's window and her wand flew from her grasp. She waved her fists and roared, "Don't you ever darken our doorstep again, you filthy blood traitor! You vile, wicked disgrace! You are no longer a Black, do you hear me? No more than dirty muggle scum-"

Walburga threw herself to one side, and the bike zoomed over where she had stood seconds earlier.

Though he felt like every bone in his body was broken, and his stomach felt like it was going to implode, Sirius could not resist a whoop of joy as he lifted off the ground and soared into the night. He passed Regulus' window, and out of the corner of his eye, could see his younger brother weeping with his hands pressed against the glass, shouting his brother's name.

Sirius flew past him and did not look back.


	2. The Visitor

When James awoke, he assumed it was the strong light in the room that had disturbed him. Rubbing his eyes for a moment, he fumbled around his bed for his glasses. Once he located the square-shaped spectacles under his pillow, he shoved them onto his nose and glanced around the bedroom. The light of the setting sun filtered in, casting a hazy glow through the large, plush room.  
Though it wasn't much more than ten at night, James sleepily pulled the duvet over his head and began to nod off immediately.

Until he heard the rumbling.

A distant groan from outside grew steadily louder and closer, until it was a drilling roar. James leapt out of bed just as the noise ceased. Grumbling obscenities under his breath, he moved to the window, but the street was empty. Mystified, he turned to the skies which were just as tranquil. He was about to put the noise down to tiredness when he saw a shadow move on the porch. Immediately, James grabbed his wand and darted from the room and down the spiral staircase. Breathing heavily, as he was home alone, he pointed his wand forwards, a hex on his tongue, and opened the door a fraction.

"_Petrific_\- Padfoot?"

The figure in front of him was certainly his best friend, Sirius Black. Long, stygian hair still hung loose, his sharp grey eyes still peered from under dark brows- but in many respects, he was unrecognisable. James could not believe someone could change so much in just a couple of weeks. Sirius' sallow face was gaunt, and though he had always been slim, his cheeks had hollowed. His once too-tight Rolling Stones t-shirt hung was loose, and covered in dried blood. In fact, so was most of him. A nasty gash ran across his cheek, his nose was a slightly different shape (clearly broken), but most of all, his eyes, usually devilish with mischief, were bloodshot and dull, one swollen shut.

"Prongs," grinned Sirius feebly. "I'm pretty sure you can't use that just yet." He nodded at James' raised wand.

James gaped at his best friend for a moment, not willing to believe the state he was in.

Wordlessly, he stepped forward and grasped his friends' jacket collar and pulled him forwards into a tight hug, which Sirius collapsed into, his quivering legs no longer supporting him.

"Oh Merlin," muttered James, seizing Sirius by the waist and dragging him inside.

"Buy me a drink first," Sirius slurred lamely, as James awkwardly half-lay, half-dropped him on the velvet couch.

James quickly grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a note to his parents:

_Need you home ASAP. Sirius is here. Emergency. -James._

He roughly attached it to his tawny owl, Fitcher, and shoved him into the fireplace. James grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it at the bird. "17 Morgan Street, Brighton." He shouted, and the owl disappeared with an indignant squawk.

"Mum and Dad are at a cauldron convention." James explained. "Mum's a healer, she'll fix you up as soon as she arrives. They'll be here soon," He ran a hand through his hair. "Blimey, Pads- what have you done?"

"I haven't _done_ anything," Sirius snapped from the sofa.

"Well you look like you just wrestled with the Whomping Willow, so if I were you I'd have a story before my parents get here."

Sirius scowled.

James wanted very much to press him further- even get angry at him for turning up on his doorstep without so much as a hello. But he couldn't bring himself to it, because despite his snark, Sirius' voice was hoarse and crackling. "You're starving." James realised, and Sirius shrugged in response. "Right," muttered James, knowing he wasn't going to get any verbal satisfaction. "Guppy! C'mere, please."

A late-middle-aged house elf crept into the room; he was clean and bright-eyed. "Master James?" He asked politely.

"Guppy, I need a three course meal for two, all on the one plate please, quick as you can!"

The house elf saluted the boy, and bowed out. A few cracking sounds followed from the kitchen, and after a minute or so a heaped platter floated into the room. Piled high with slices of beef, chicken legs, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, vegetables, cheeses, breads, bowls of trifle, chocolate mousse and ice cream. A large jug of pumpkin juice plus two bottles of butterbeer accompanied the feast.

"This pleases Master James?" Called Guppy from the kitchen.

"Yeah, yeah, brilliant- thanks," James shouted back.

The platter landed softly on the coffee table, and Sirius glanced at James before digging in. His head did not resurface for several minutes, and when it did it was covered in gravy, crumbs and butterbeer foam. He had only eaten half of it when a great black dog appeared in Sirius' place and cleared the plate. When Sirius the human reappeared, he was clutching at his stomach in queasy delight. "That felt good."

"I'll bet it did." Said James. "Now tell me what happened."

Long story short, I ran away from home and pissed my mother off."

James blinked. "Care to elabourate?"

"Not particularly."

James scratched his head. "Well there has to be more to it than that." He said.

Sirius waved his hand. "Stop bombarding me, woman." He wheezed. "I was going to stay at the Leaky Cauldron, but I let that slip to Reg…" He trailed off as if remembering something. "…Ulus." He finished the name flatly.

"Well you can stay here, of course."

"Prongs, no-"

"Think about it! Stay here for the summer, and then next summer we'll be graduated and we can get a flat in London when we become Aurors. It's perfect."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, almost perfect."

Sirius shook his head. "This is your parents' house, it wouldn't be fair to expect them to house a second kid for the summer, a kid who smells like dog and has a massive appetite. They'd never agree to it."

James dismissed the point with a wave of his hand. "Let's not play games here, Pads." Both boys knew full well that Mr and Mrs Potter spoiled James rotten, and never forbade him anything.

"Your dad is an Auror," Sirius pointed out. "My family are as old and inbred as they come, and obsessively prejudiced. Can't really see me appealing to him much."

"Well you wouldn't be an extra kid," James said, ignoring the last point. "You'd be a guest. A VIP."

"I like that," Sirius conceded.

At that moment, the fireplace began to quiver and a tall, slim witch with olive skin and thick grey-flecked brown hair wound around her head stepped out. Though she was in her mid-sixties she had the appearance of one many years younger. She wore expensive patterned fuchsia robes and a fur-lined pointed hat. She was strikingly attractive.

"_Siento, James,_" Said Mrs Potter in Spanish as she took off her hat. "There wasn't a Floo chimney for miles, they all had to be shut down because one of the Fletchers was sneaking people in, the _bastardo_-" Her dark eyes fell on Sirius and her hands went to her mouth. "_¡Cáspita!_" She gasped, rushing to him at once. "_Desgraciado_," she murmured, "what happened to you?"

"I was out late down Knockturn Alley." Said Sirius carefully, looking down. James narrowed his eyes but did not contradict him.

"You were attacked." Mrs Potter tutted, examining his wounds. "Then why haven't you gone home?"

"I only stopped to see James on the way," Said Sirius. "My parents are abroad, you see, and I'm going to stay with relatives." That wasn't true, but Sirius could try and find his estranged uncle, Alphard.

"Don't be silly, don't go troubling your, er, lovely relatives." Mrs Potter said politely. "Any friend of James' is welcome any time. _Es parentesco sin sangre una amistad verdadera_."

"Um," Sirius glanced at James uncertainly.

"Kinship without a blood relationship is true friendship." James translated, and his mother beamed at him. "Mum's motto."

Sirius could not believe her hospitality. "Oh… t-thank you, Mrs Potter."

"Kesare," She corrected him. "Mrs Potter makes me feel old." She added with a wink, and Sirius felt oddly flattered.

At that moment, the flames rose once more and a tall thin wizard with very messy dark grey hair and a walking stick appeared and stepped out of the fireplace, seeming disgruntled. "What's going on here?" He asked, his eyes falling on Sirius. Ignotus Potter was unenthusiastic about his son's friendship with the heir of House Black. Ignotus' own mother, Dorea, had been of House Black, and because of that he knew just how prejudiced and elitist the pureblood family were. As an Auror, he was even more wary. He knew that the Blacks did not necessarily practice dark magic themselves, but they certainly had very strong ties with those that did.

However, when he saw the state that the young Black was in, he forgot all of that. "Merlin's beard!" Cried Mr Potter, running to the boy's side. "Kesare, this is your area of expertise…" He glanced at his wife.

"_Sí_," Mrs Potter affirmed, and began to mutter to herself in a wave of rapid Spanish as she examined Sirius' injuries, but had some difficulty distinguishing between bruises and patches of dried blood. She took out the wand and rested the tip on Sirius bare arm. "_Tergeo_," She said clearly, and slowly, the dried blood all over his body faded and disappeared. He began to thank her, but Mrs Potter raised a hand to silence him. "Stay quiet," she said. Her voice was soothing. "Your nose is broken, and it will hurt slightly to fix."

Sirius shrugged but couldn't help wincing.

"I have a little _truco_, a trick, that you may find useful." She smiled kindly. "I want you to think of the worst swears in your arsenal, and when it hurts, say one as loud as feels right."

Sirius grinned. "Okay."

Mrs Potter drew her wand again, and pointed it at his nose. "_Episkey."_

The pain was sharp, but brief. Sirius had the sensation of his nose being burned and then frozen in a few short space of time. "Bollocks," He muttered, his hand flying to his face. To his surprise, Mrs Potter was smiling again.

"Bollocks," she repeated in her smooth accent. "Doesn't sound too bad." She evaluated her work. "I will go fetch some essence of dittany and blood replenishing potion, and that is all I will be able to do for today." With a sweep of fuchsia robes she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Sirius, James and Ignotus.

Mr Potter was eyeing Sirius. Now that alarm had passed, suspicion kicked in. "So what happened, Mr Black?" He asked coolly.

"Dodgy side-street down Knockturn Alley," Replied Sirius, with equal iciness.

"Knockturn Alley?" Mr Potter's tone was disapproving. "And what were you doing down there?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes. "Well I… I was… I had to go-"

"I see." Said Mr Potter tartly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sirius challenged. "You bloody asked."

"Well you don't seem to know yourself, do you? Or maybe you haven't thought of a cover story yet."

"Dad!" James objected. As he spoke, Kesare came back into the room and all three of them shut up.

"Could I speak to you in the kitchen, James?" He asked, through his tightened lips.

With a grunt of reluctance, James got up and followed his father into the next room, feeling Sirius' glare on his back.

Mr Potter shut the door. "What exactly is going on?"

"He told you! Or at least, he was trying to when _you_ interrupted."

Mr Potter raised his bushy grey eyebrows. "James, please. I have been an Auror for fifty four years, give me some credit."

"I only know as much as you do, Dad. All I know-or care- is that my best friend turned up here beaten to a pulp and he's staying 'til Mum's fixed him up."

Mr Potter tried to keep a stern face. Lowering his voice, he said: "James, I know he's your school friend, but his background… but they're bad blood, the Blacks."

"You're part Black!" James argued. "And so am I!"

Mr Potter winced, as if he had been hoping that point would not arise. "Well yes, technically, but…"

"Your mother was a Black, and she wasn't a raving Death Eater lunatic, was she?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Well nothing! That's proof enough."

Mr Potter seemed conflicted for a moment, and he lowered his voice further. "I'm going to tell you something, son, and if you repeat it, I'll lose my job, understand? …Between us, there's a convoy of us at the office on the brim of taking them down. We've noticed a lot of oddities lately, especially with your friend's uncle, Cygnus Black, and his lot. Keep their hand clean, don't they? But let me tell you, they've funded more blood purification campaigns that you can count. Tomorrow's Death Eaters, the lot of them."

James sighed. To a certain extent, he could understand his father's disapproval, but he could not concede to it. "It's 1977," James reminded him. "Times are changing, even in the muggle world. If he was anyone else you'd take him in with open arms. I didn't realise Aurors had prejudices too."

His words struck a chord in his father. Mr Potter gave in with a sigh. "I suppose they don't. Or shouldn't, at least. If he's worthy of your friendship, then he must be worthy of my house. He can stay as long as you like."

James shamelessly embraced his father, before fleeing the room. Sirius was downing a vivid purple potion with a sickeningly pungent smell, shuddering with every swallow. James' mother was dripping essence of dittany to any open wounds.

"_Acabado_." Said Mrs Potter. "Well, that is everything. Guppy will make up a bed in James' room for you, and James and I will clean up here."

Once again overwhelmed by Mrs Potter's hospitality, he thanked her profusely. Guppy sauntered over and took Sirius' hand and began to lead him towards the foyer. At first, Sirius snatched his hand back in horror, but when the elf seemed hurt, he acquiesced to extending a finger.

After helping his mother clean the vials she used, James headed upstairs only to find Sirius lying on his bed, smirking.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Part of the recovery process," Sirius answered tartly.

"I take it the Levamen potion has kicked in, then."

"Oh yeah. Numbs the pain alright. Numbs it so much I can't move."

James couldn't help but laugh as he kicked off his shoes and pounced on the spare bed opposite. "I talked to Dad, by the way, and he's cool with you staying."

Sirius snorted.

"What?"

"'Cool with me staying'? What, did you cast the Imperius Curse on him or something?"

"Ha-ha," Said James sarcastically. "No, I just talked him 'round."

"What does he think I'm going to do, anyway?" Sirius huffed. "Throw a sleepover and invite Uncle Cygnus and Bellatrix over? While I'm at it, Kreacher can come too! We'll have a great time, getting wasted on the blood of muggleborns and-"

"Oh shut up, he just wants to know why you're here. And so do I."

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. "I told you…"

"Told me? You gave me a few words of pure bullshit that wouldn't get you out of first year detention with Professor Sprout. So speak now or forever hold your piece."

"I'll go with forever holding my piece, thanks."

James got out of bed and walked across the room to punch Sirius' numb shoulder.

"Oi!" Protested Sirius indignantly, although he didn't actually feel it. "I'll tell you, just…" He nodded at the ajar bedroom door. "Can't move." He reminded James.

With a huff, James shut the door and then sat down on the end of Sirius' bed, and listened to the story. Sirius chronicled the events of the night before with a monotonous frankness that reminded James of the school knobhead, Severus Snape. By the time he was finished, James was fuming. "That bitch!" He growled, pounding his velvet pillow angrily. "That sadistic, mental bitch!"

Sirius grimaced. The Black family loyalty that had been nurtured into him since childbirth still endured deep down, and he resented its existence. James noticed his discomfort. "What? She bloody tried to kill you!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Don't be melodramatic, Prongs, she wouldn't _actually_ kill me. That would look _terrible_ at family gatherings."

They both laughed at that.

"You know," said James thoughtfully, as he wandered back to his own bed. "This mightn't be that bad a thing… I mean, sorry that your family is full of tossers and all that, but think of the summer ahead of us! A whole month of holidays, no McGonagall to stop us. Think of the fun we'll have… What do you think, Padfoot? …Padfoot?"

But Sirius was snoring softly, lying fully dressed on top of the made bed.

James chuckled quietly. "Goodnight, then." He said, and turned off the light.

The following morning, James woke first. He was initially confused when he found himself in a strange bed that was not his own, but when he glanced across the room and found his best friend snoring on the bed, he remembered with a pang of excitement. James also felt a tinge of guilt for rejoicing Sirius' arrival so much, given the grim circumstances, but he couldn't help it. James was used to long summers at Godric's Hollow alone with his parents. They doted on him, which was nice for a couple of days, but grew gradually annoying as the summer persisted. He used to play with the Muggle children in the village before he went to Hogwarts, but they had all grown up and did not want to know the weird Potter boy who was gone for most of the year.

Sirius was sprawled across James' bed, fully clothed. Instead of waking him, James went downstairs, instinctively smoothing his hair where it stuck up at the back as he did. Kesare Potter was reading the _Daily Prophet_, frowning slightly, Ignotus Potter was polishing his wand wordlessly.

"…Morning," Said James slowly, noticing the tension. "Everything alright?"

Mr Potter gave a sort of snort, and then put down his wand. "No, James it isn't." He said harshly, taking the newspaper out of his wife's hands and shoving it at his son.

Mrs Potter hissed a few aggressive words in Spanish, but seemed more interested in James' reaction to the _Daily Prophet_.

"Turn to page 14." Said Mr Potter. "Care to explain _that_?"

Baffled, James flicked through the paper and looked down at the page. The headline read 'GATHERING WORRY AT MINISTRY AS THREE MORE FOUND DEAD'. James glanced at his father. "Er, isn't this more your thing, Dad?"

In reply, his father flicked his wand, and the bottom corner of the page began to glow, and James looked down. 'MISSING WITCHES AND WIZARDS AS OF 24th JULY'. It was a list of witches and wizards who were reported missing, with a small photo next to them. He scanned the list, wondering whose name he should be searching for:

_Abercrombie, Angus _

_Aubrey, Magenta_

_Bell, Nerissa  
Black, Sirius (underage)  
Burbage, Clarence_

James did a double take. What was Sirius doing on the list? It was definitely his name, and definitely a picture of him scowling in dress robes. "I… I don't… There must be some mist-"

"It's not a mistake," Mr Potter snapped. "Someone has reported him. The Ministry thinks he's missing, his family don't even know he's here. Your friend has been lying to us. I want him out _now_."

"No!" James said defiantly. "He hasn't been lying, not to me."

Mr Potter was taken aback. "And what do you know that we don't?"

James bit his lip uncertainly. Telling the truth felt like a betrayal to Sirius, but it seemed to be the only chance of him staying. "He told me…stuff, but begged me not to tell you because he thought you'd send him home."

"I've a right mind to." Mr Potter huffed.

"See! That's exactly what he was afraid of, and you're only proving him right. His mother nearly killed him- she tried to cast the Imperius Curse on him and everything!"

Mr Potter sat forward. "Really? Do you think you could get that in writing?"

"Dad!" Shouted James. "Stop thinking of your job for a second and use you head. His family is absoloutely _mental_. When he came here yesterday in that state, it wasn't because of anything that happened down Knockturn Alley, it was because his crazy bitch of a-"

"James." Said his mother sternly.

"Sorry, Mum. –Of a mother wouldn't feed him or let him leave and when he tried to escape, THAT happened." He looked desperately between his parents.

Mr Potter was scratching the back of his head, his wiry eyebrows knit tightly in contemplation.

Mrs Potter, who had been very quiet, seemed thoughtful. "For me, nothing has changed. I told you yesterday that a friend of yours is a friend of mine, and he is welcome to stay as far as I'm concerned." She turned to her husband. "_Es parentesco sin sangre una amistad verdadera._"

Mr Potter looked at his wife with a strange expression. James couldn't pin-point it exactly. It seemed a mix of adoration and surrender. After a moment he spoke. "Alright." It was barely a whisper. He seemed to snap out of the trance and turned to James. "What the hell," he sighed. "If his family hate him, I should love him by default, eh?" He chuckled weakly. "He can stay, but on two conditions. One, any funny… dark, kind of business, he's gone."  
"No problem there." Said James.

"Second, he needs to write to his parents to tell them he's here."

"But-"

"No buts, James. He's in the paper after being missing a day, I can't afford to be caught up in any dodgy dealings with the Blacks. They know who I am and they know I'm onto them, they could easily make this very messy and have my job on the line."

"If they find out where he is, they'll bring him home," James protested.

"I won't let that happen." Said Mr Potter firmly, glancing at his watch. "That's my final word on the matter. Do we have an agreement?"  
James nodded.

"Good. I have to go to work, make sure you boys give your mother plenty of help."

"We will, Dad," James vowed. "And… thanks."

Mr Potter nodded. He kissed his wife on the head and ruffled James' already untidy hair, then left.

Mrs Potter stood up, and glanced at the clock. "I have to go to work, James," she said pleasantly. "Help yourself to breakfast, I have a list of_ quehaceres _I need you to do during the day, it's on the counter." She kissed James on the head and stepped in to the fireplace. "St Mungo's Hospital," She said clearly, and disappeared in a pillar of flames.

James tore upstairs and found his friend in the exact same positions as before, snoring softly and straddling James' bed. James considered tapping him gently on the shoulder to wake him, but instead backed towards the door and sprinted forwards, leaping onto his best friends' sleepy form with a roar.

"AAARGH!" Both boys yelled- one with glee, one with alarm. The pounce quickly developed into a wrestle which ended with them both lying on the floor in a fit of laughter.

"Do that again and I'll put you in Mungo's." Said Sirius between giggles.

James' laughter quickly died as he remembered his conversation with his parents. "Um, Pads…" He sat up, ruffling his hair awkwardly. "I sort of had to tell my parents what happened with your mum."

In a flash, Sirius was on his feet, his eyes flashed with betrayal. "You WHAT?" He shouted in shock. "HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?"

"Calm down," Said James forcefully, standing up to meet him. "I _had_ to."

"NO YOU DIDN'T!" Sirius yelled furiously, shoving him.

"Yes I did," Said James, growing impatient. "Now shut the hell up so I can tell you why."

Sirius glared at him. "I don't want to know why. You did it and that's what matters."

James snorted and shoved the newspaper at him.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the headline article. "Three more dead? What's that got to do w-" James pointed at the list at the bottom of the page, and Sirius' brows furrowed as he read it carefully. He took a sharp intake of breath when he saw his own name. "Well," he said.

"See?" Said James. "My dad completely freaked when he saw it, he thought you had lied your way in and were spying on him and everything."

Sirius folded the newspaper and tossed it on the bed. "That's a horrible photo of me. Surely they could find something better than that."

James was surprised. "You don't seem too bothered, then."

"I am bothered." Said Sirius darkly. "But I'm not surprised. Didn't think it'd happen this quick, though." He frowned at James. "I suppose I'll go pack my bags then."

James rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, you prat, you can stay- but be warned, my dad's going to be watching you like a hawk."

Sirius shrugged.

"He added some rules though. No dark magic-"

"James, the only reason I'm here is the practice my Cruciatus Curse on you, so I might as well just leave now."

"_Ha-ha_. Um, he also wants you to write to your family and tell them you're here. Keeping you here without them knowing is putting Dad's job at risk."

Sirius paled. "Thanks, Prongs, but I can't tell them where I am. I'll find somewhere else to go."

"Oh grow a pair, Padfoot," Said James jovially. "Dad'll watch out for you, he promised he would. He just wants you to be honest."

Sirius pursed his lips and slowly wen to James' desk and tore a piece of parchment off. In a cursive scrawl, he wrote:

_I'm staying with James Potter for the summer. Don't come for me because I'm not coming home. Don't try to contact me, give all of my belongings and inheritance to Regulus._

_-Sirius_

James noticed his friend's hand was trembling as he wrote. Sirius sulkily attached the note to Fitcher, and opened the window, shoving the owl out.


	3. When in Rome

_**Chapter Three: When in Rome**_

The day that followed was a strange one. It soon became apparent to James that Sirius was not used to looking after himself.

"Help yourselves to breakfast, boys," Mrs Potter had said pleasantly that morning, after dabbing more Essence of Dittany on Sirius. "I'm off to work."

"Thanks, Mum," Said James, opening a cupboard.

"Thank you, Madam." Said Sirius stiffly, sitting down at the table as Mrs Potter left.

James frowned at him. "What are you doing?"

Sirius blinked. "…Sitting?"

"Are you not hungry?"

"I am; That's why I'm sitting."

"Hate to be the one to break the news to you, mate, breakfast's not going to fall out of the sky."

"I know," Said Sirius. "I'm waiting to be served."

James snorted. "By who? Guppy? You'll be waiting a long time. Guppy's not your slave, Padfoot."

"But-"

"Guppy's more of a… pet, really, than anything else. He gardens mostly-" James nodded out the window, where Guppy was kneeling on the windowsill, tending to flower-boxes. Noticing the attention, Guppy beamed and gave an enthusiastic wave.

Sirius felt a twinge of guilt.

"Mum and Dad don't have time to do stuff like gardening and maintaining the house," James explained, "So when he came with my grandmother's - you know, your gran-aunt Dorea- inheritance, they found Guppy simple stuff that he likes doing. It's win-win."

Sirius was confused. He always assumed that all house elves were bitter and misanthropic like Kreacher. A happy, laid-back elf seemed counter-productive. "What's the point, then?" He blurted out.

James sighed and took out two bowls. "Oh stay sitting, then, you idiot- but take notes."

Mrs Potter had left a list of chores for James and Sirius to get done while she was at work until five. They spent a few hours playing gobstones and wizard chess and debating whether Amelia Bones or Emmeline Vance was the hottest girl at Hogwarts.

"Bollocks," Said James suddenly, interrupting Sirius' deeply thought-out argument in Vance's favour.

"Hey!" Sirius objected. "I was just getting to the b-"

James waved the list. "It's quarter-to-four. We need to get the stuff for dinner, clean the kitchen, and de-gnome the garden before Mum gets back."

They began with the gnomes. James did this a couple of times every Summer, but Sirius had only ever chased gnomes around their small garden with Regulus as children.

After being kicked, bitten and mooned more times than he could count, Sirius collapsed into a dramatic sigh after five minutes.

"It's _fine_, Prongs," He said impatiently.

James was wrestling off a bearded gnome who was gnawing his forefinger. "There's only a few left."

Half an hour later, the garden was completely devoid of gnomes. James was satisfied, and despite being covered in dirt and sweat, Sirius glowed with pride.

"We really it stuck it to 'em, didn't we?" He grinned, beaming.

"Er, yeah."

The kitchen was easy enough. Guppy kindly assisted Sirius whenever James wasn't looking. Initially, Sirius was suspicious, and repeatedly hissed "Bugger off, I'm not giving you anything,", but when the elf persisted with a knowing smile and a wink, Sirius quickly took a shining him. Once every brass pot was gleaming, James beckoned Sirius towards him.

"Are we done?" Asked Sirius hopefully.

"Let's find out." There was a set of short lace curtains on the wall, covering a frame. James pulled a string, and they opened, revealing a portrait of a curvy, middle aged witch wearing patterned tangerine robes. She had a glowing, somewhat forceful, smile. Sirius instantly recognised her as Wanda Waverly-Wellington, the heroine of house-witches and wizards everywhere.

"Mum got it from Dad last Christmas," Said James miserably. "She nearly flipped a lid, thinking he was insinuating she wasn't domestic enough. Got it fond of it since, though." He narrowed his eyes at the blonde witch. "You open the curtains and she tells you if the kitchen's clean enough or not, and what you're doing wrong. Pain in the bloody arse."

"Now, now, Jamesie," Wanda scolded playfully, in an American Southern drawl. "Don't wanna let your mother hearin' you talk like that, or she'll have to wash your mouth out with my new sage and peppermint-"

"Shut up," James growled, pulling the curtains. "See what I mean? Couldn't figure out how to shut her up for ages, we were leaving the curtains open all night and all we could hear was 'I detect a speck of dirt on your quaint lil carpet, use my new and improved 'Ditch the Dirt' formula, made entirely of Veela urine." He imitated her accent with relish.

Sirius chuckled, as James opened the curtains again. Wanda's round, blue eyes were narrowed at James. "That's not a very nice way to talk 'bout your friends, Jamesie," She tutted, before turning to Sirius. "An' who's this fine young man?"

"Is the kitchen bloody clean or not?" James growled through gritted teeth.

Wanda tore her eyes away reluctantly. "Awlright, awlright, I'm lookin'." She muttered, assessing the kitchen. "Well, it's of a usual standard, I suppose, could use a splash of my classic-"

"That'll do." Said James, snapping the curtains shut.

The two sixteen year old boys stepped out into Godric's Hollow the midsummer sunshine. Sirius looked around in awe. Although he had seen the village the night before, it has been empty and dull in the darkness.

"Mostly Muggles 'round here," James explained. "There's about four wizarding families in the area, including us. There's also the Corners, the Rosiers and the McKinnons."

"Marlene's family?" Asked Sirius, flushing.

James began to laugh, and Sirius thumped him.

Marlene McKinnon was one of many, many girls at Hogwarts whom Sirius had had a fling with at some point, but she was the one who came closest to being his girlfriend. That is, until she found him shamelessly snogging a seventh year Hufflepuff under the Ravenclaw stands at a Quidditch match. Sirius had argued that they weren't actually a couple, and Marlene had jelly-legs-jinxed him so furiously that he couldn't walk for days.

"They live just down the road," Said James, and Sirius paled, glancing anxiously at his wonderfully-functioning legs. "But they're gone on holidays to Belgium for the summer."

Sirius relaxed then, as they walked to the nearest shop. "Fletcher's Newsagents and Post Office," Sirius read aloud slowly. "Hey- do you think they're related to Dung?"

"No," Answered James impatiently. "Like I said, they're all _Muggles_."

But Sirius was not listening. He wandered into the shop, looking thoroughly unimpressed by the rows of biscuit packets and teabags. He was still muttering about how boring Muggles were when he noticed a woman at the back of the shop, sweeping. She was stooped and scowling intensely as she moved the broom across the dirty floor.

Suddenly realising what she was doing, Sirius ran over in alarm and snatched the broom off of her.

The stooped woman flushed purple. "What exactly are you d-"

"What exactly are _you_ doing?" Sirius interrupted, his tone challenging.

"I'm sweeping, you brat." She snapped, reaching for the broom.

Sirius examined it. "Not the finest I've seen. What is it, a Comet 47 at most?"

The woman seemed utterly flabbergasted. "I don't know what you're playing at, boy… Johnny!" She called shrilly, and a heavyset man with a thin moustache and stained apron stumbled over from behind the counter.

"What is it now, Bethel?" He grumbled.

Bethel pointed an accusing finger at Sirius. "This smart-alick is trying to steal from me and… and… undermine my labour."

Johnny winced, scratching one half of his moustache wearily. "Look, lad," he slurred, "Could you just hand over-"

Sirius was still looking at the reddening woman when realisation dawned on him. "Oh!" He cried. "Of course. You're a witch!"

"I beg your pardon?" She said dangerously, picking up a loaf of bread from the shelf and holding it threateningly.

"Sirius!" Called the alarmed voice of James, whose arms were full of vegetables. With a sigh of exasperation, he dropped the groceries on the counter and ran to his friend. "Give Mrs Fletcher her broom back now!"

"You never told me it was a wizard shop!" Sirius argued, ignoring the flustered Bethel and Johnny Fletcher.

"It_ isn't_." Said James through gritted teeth, seizing Sirius' shoulders and swiftly steering him towards the door. "I need to pay for the stuff, try not to cause any more shit for thirty seconds." And he shoved him outside. James then walked up to the counter with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that, he's a cousin- a bit loopy." Lowering his voice, he added. "He's from Yorkshire, you see."

Johnny and Bethel Fletcher glanced at each other and gaving a knowing nod. "You're alright, lad," Johnny said amiably. "Funny crowd up north, eh?" He handed James his change. "Maybe best keep him out of here, though, Bethel gets very nervous."

"I do not!"

"Er, yeah, will do," James smiled weakly. "Have a good day, then," And he walked out as casually as he could and onto the main street.

"Prongs," Said Sirius immediately. "That's really dangerous. Muggles using wizarding objects like that, it could've taken off with her! Poor old bird didn't even know what to do with it… Imagine, cleaning with a broom." He scoffed. "How ignorant can you get?"

James tried to be patient. "You do realise that Muggles used brooms for cleaning before we used them for flying?"

Sirius snorted. "As if."

"Not really, it's in Quidditch Through the Ages. Some medieval bloke was caught in a dingy castle and was being chased by a mob of Muggles, and he panicked and he enchanted the only thing he could find, a broom, and flew off on it, then it just caught on."

"But hang on, I thought Muggles used sweeping brushes and mops and all that useless stuff Filch uses?"

"Have you never noticed certain similarities between a sweeping brush and a broomstick?"

Sirius scratched the back of his head. "No, can't say I have."

They walked through Godric's Hollow as the sun began to set westwards, when they passed a group of Muggle teenagers from the village. The three girls and two boys were immersed in conversation. One guy had an outdated Beatles style haircut and John Lennon sunglasses; the other was tall, blonde and handsome, with a swimmer's body. He wore a striped vest and tight shorts. Of the girls, all three were attractive. Two were twins with long brown hair, decorated with flowers, and wore equally long skirts and waist coats. However, it was the third girl who caught Sirius' eye. She had dark, charcoal skin that glowed in the sunlight. Her thick black hair was cut crudely short, Grace Jones-style. She wore fringed denim shorts that showed off her long, slim legs, and despite the heat, a leather jacket. The swimmer boy had his arm draped around her shoulders, with a somewhat triumphant look on his face.

Sirius caught her eye and winked, and she gave a bemused smile in return.

"Oi!" The boyfriend reacted immediately, storming over and stepping in front of Sirius. "What exactly are you playing at?" His accent was cosmopolitan London, possibly Hammersmith.

"Playing?" Asked Sirius innocently. "No, no, this is called walking, mate." He took an exaggerated step forwards. "See?"

James laughed, and began to walk around the boy, but the blonde moved to block him. "Get out of my way, you knobhead." Said James.

The two hippie girls giggled and looked admiringly at the strangers.

"I don't know you," Said the swimmer boy.

"No, you don't." Said James. "Now move."

The boy turned on Sirius. "Or you. Why are you winking at my girlfriend?"

Sirius turned to James. "Not very bright, is he? Doesn't seemed to know what 'get out of the way' means."

"Obviously not," Sighed James, feigning pity. "Seems the lights are on but there's nobody home," He gave a little knock on the boy's massive chest, and his muscles seemed to flex with annoyance.

"Don't touch me, you filthy immigrant," The swimmer boy cried, flinching.

James and Sirius glanced at each other.

"Yeah, that's right," Continued the boy, sensing his upperhand. "I can tell you're not from here, you're all dark," He prodded James' sallow arm.

"I've lived here all my life, you ignorant twat, my Mum's Spanish is all," James snorted at the attempt at an insult.

"Yeah, you're mixed so!" The boy jeered. "Part Spanish, and all."

Sirius shook his head. "What the hell is wrong with you? It's called a bloody tan, it shouldn't scare you that much."

The boy seemed to withdraw. "Yeah, but…"  
"And I'll have you know," Sirius continued. "His mum is fit as any girl you'll see 'round here, except your girlfriend, of course," He chanced another wink.

The said girlfriend, who had up until then seemed entirely disinterested in the brawl was frowning. "What's the matter, Guy?" She asked, dragging her lips away from a lit cigarette. "Never knew you had a problem with colour."

"I- Well you're different-"

The dark girl threw her head back and gave a throaty laugh. "Right," She said, dropping the cigarette stub on the ground and stepping on it. "Different," She repeated. "Well next time you're pissed off at your Mummy and want to make a point, find someone else who's _different _to shag." She narrowed her eyes and stalked off.

Guy seemed temporarily torn between following his now ex-girlfriend and finishing what he had started with the two strangers. " Jackie!" He called desperately, beginning to turn away.

"By the way, the reason I winked at your girlfriend is because she's fit as hell." Sirius smirked. "Sorry, ex-girlfriend."

In a wave of fury, the boy drew his fist back and threw a punch.

Sirius, anticipating the clumsy move, leaned back and danced away from it. "Good shot, champ," He grinned.

Guy seemed to swell with anger. "Don't you know who I am?" He snarled.

"No, and I don't care."

"I'm Guillame Godfrey," He said importantly, as if the name should mean something. When neither boy reacted, he finished off annoyedly- "You know, my father is Geoffrey Godfrey… The MP."

"The what?" Sirius, unable to follow Guy's attempts at self-importance wanted to finish up and go. "Look, mate, if your Daddy's so great, why don't you run after him and clear off?"

Guillame stepped forwards. He was about three inches taller than Sirius, who was tall as it was, and twice as muscular. Six weeks ago, Sirius could have matched him, but in his current state and without a wand he hadn't a prayer.

"Nigel," Called Guy, and the boy with the bad haircut dutifully stood beside him.

Sirius did not call James. He was already there.

"I won't have scummy bastards like you eyeballing our girlfriends, and loitering in our village." Said Guy distastefully.

James was getting impatient. "I keep telling you, this is my village, I'm bloody from here."

Guy and Nigel exchanged a snicker. "No you're not, mongrel." Guy was beginning to smirk, when Sirius punched him so hard in the face there was a crack, and a crevice appeared in his jaw. Suddenly Sirius was on top of him, throwing aimless punches at Guy, over and over, blood running over his fists.

"Holy shit!" Nigel exclaimed, jumping away from them.

James ran forwards and pulled Sirius back. Guy had fallen to the floor, unconscious, blood spouting from his lips where his teeth and cut through them. "You bastards are mad!" He cried.

"Come near us again, and I'll bang your heads together so hard you'll be touching tonsils, got it?" Sirius growled, wiping the blood off Guy's vest. "Come on, Prongs." And he tugged his friend away and lead him towards the house.

James took a few moments to realise what had happened. "You shouldn't have done that…" He said, glancing back at the scene. Nigel was attempting to drag Guy off the road and onto the footpath. "You didn't even know what he was saying."

Sirius shrugged. "Didn't need to." He muttered. "No different to calling someone a mudblood, if you're insulting them for something they can't help."

James was still somewhere between awed and horrified. "Still, you can't go around knocking people out for passing comments, you've just got to get over it sometimes."

Sirius shrugged again. "I don't care. He was a shit, he's the one who can get over it." His knuckles were quickly swelling and blackening. They were covered in Guy's blood after his teeth had sunken in, but he didn't care. He felt no guilt, no remorse. Only bitterness, and resentment. No-one talked to his friends like that and got away with it. His bond with James- and Remus and Peter- was impenetrable, impregnable. No-one was going to get in the way of their friendship. Not Guy. Not Mr Potter. Not his mother. No-one.

_Sorry for the delay between chapters; I've been hand-writing the story then typing and uploading it, which is long and tedious. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think. Thanks for reading._


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